I go forth to seek — To seek and claim the lovely magic garden Where grasses softly sigh and Muses speak. - Anna Akhmatova

I have lit my treasured candles, one by one, to hallow this night. With you, who do not come, I wait the birth of the year. Dear God! the flame has drowned in crystal, and the wine, like poison, burns Old malice bites the air, old ravings rave again, though the hour has not yet struck.

We thought: we're poor, we have nothing, but when we started losing one after the other so each day became remembrance day, we started composing poems about God's great generosity and — our former riches.

I asked him then: 'What are you after?'
'To be in hell with you,' he said.